


Less Devil, More Blue Dress

by subchesters



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Bottom Seth, Come play, Dom/sub Undertones, Feminization, Fingerfucking, Incest Kink, M/M, Nipple Play, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subchesters/pseuds/subchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s risky, it’s possible Seth may break his kneecaps in thinking Richie might be mocking him, but Richie’s trying hard to waltz into this situation without making the wrong judgment. It’s why he starts out slow, throws down an old suitcase on the bed, creaks with the worn springs, and Richie grimaces a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less Devil, More Blue Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the FDTD exchange on Tumblr. As per usual, I waited until nearly the deadline and then hashed it out all last moment.

It’s some backwater town on the rear end of nowhere that Richie notices, just a slide of color on the edge of his vision, and if he weren’t looking too closely or glancing at just the right time, he could play off Seth’s stare at the department store across his line of vision as some fluke, but it’s right there something slides into place and Richie thinks he’s up for offering it.

Some stretch of highway zooming past I-65 to pull off in a nowhere-from-here road that Richie decides he can do it, he can indulge, and miles down the worn asphalt, he gets Seth to pull over, makes some half-assed attempt at an excuse that he’s gonna  revisit his meal of hot dogs he ate earlier, and Seth’s nose wrinkles.

“Better keep it in your mouth and not all over this upholstery,” and he’s pulling off some exit, into a faceless town forgotten to be marked on a map, and Richie’s got time to burn through in another department store, some guise of, “gonna need a new shirt.” 

 

 

\- -

 

 

It’s some end of a motel in room A10 does Richie offer it.

It’s risky, it’s possible Seth may break his kneecaps in thinking Richie might be mocking him, but Richie’s trying hard to waltz into this situation without making the wrong judgment. It’s why he starts out slow, throws down an old suitcase on the bed, creaks with the worn springs, and Richie grimaces a little.

“I was gonna go run a few things,” comes conversationally, as much as Richie can get it, “gonna go buy some new clothes, got blood all over my shirt and can’t exactly walk around town like that.”

Seth’s throwing a look at him, gets that inquisitive look, “I better not be woken up next time with a baseball bat to the knees because you fucked over someone and their money,” and really, Richie sees it, the look on Seth’s face as he eyes the innocuous-looking panties, thrown on the bed with clothes. It doesn’t look like much, the material a plain blue, pale-like, slightly worn, but it’s enough, just to get Seth’s attention.

“You sure you don’t need anything?” and it’s always good to ask.

“You ask me that again, I’ll need to do something to your face.”

It’s Seth’s way of deterring conversation, he’s not up for discussing the unspoken rules to this, to Seth’s interest, to Richie’s trying-but-failing need to be supportive as much as Seth will allow it. Richie pushes as much as he can, gets a few words in, as much as he can before Seth snaps at him, but he backs down without so much as another word, and he lets Richie take over, lets Richie take care of everything.

“You sure about this?”

Again, he pushes, Seth acquiesces.

“Be back in an hour or so, don’t wait up for me.”

And Richie’s striding out the door.

 

 

\- -

 

 

It’s like there’s some cosmic joke that Seth thinks is gonna happen, waiting at the end of the hall, brass knuckles waiting to strike him, and some obnoxious yelling, “you’ve just been Punk’d!” that Seth’s brother can’t let go, won’t let go, as if the sudden collapse of what Seth does is gonna dawn on Richie, all of it giving way to some self-discovered distaste for everything that Seth takes action in.

Richie takes his time, he buys new shirts, he gets himself a coffee that Seth scoffs at, “you nearly ruined a bank heist for that shit,” and Richie checks his watch, leg jittering, his nerves always push off at this point.

It’s almost a game, it’s almost something that they both revel in, but neither acknowledges it, neither are willing to look at this piece of their lives they’ve fallen so comfortably into.

A routine of unspoken enjoyment.

 

 

\- -

 

 

Richie’s opening the door, he’s coming through slowly, silently, and he’s thinking about making a noise, he’s thinking about saying something of, “honey, I’m home!” just to break the tension he knows, to shatter the nerves in his stomach.

They do this sometimes, not enough to be common, just enough to know of it in an established routine, and each time, it’s new on his tongue, just to say it out loud.

Seth’s nowhere, more than likely; he’s gone back into the bathroom. It’s a familiar scenes, beginning with the light from the bathroom, and Richie’s palms start to slick with sweat, his stomach drops, and he can only think about Seth’s figure, what it’s gonna look like, accentuated with the pale-like color of blue panties around his form.

There’s a voyeurism element, with the bathroom door open, a temptation that Seth likes to indulge. As much as Seth will claim he hates to be watched, studied, he’s more than willing to leave the door open, he lets Richie come up behind him, watching him, allow him to trace the curve of everything Seth’s body has to offer.

A breath, a thud of a heartbeat and Richie presses forward.

Seth’s stands against the orange-tinted light in the middle of the bathroom as a backdrop against his figure, giving him this accentuated look, filtered by the glow of light that softens his feature. He’s less hard angles, he’s rounded, and the light gives him this ethereal glow.

Richie’s eyes travel down, instinctual; he knows exactly what he’ll find.

Wrapped around his lower hips are the blue panties, clinging to his backside, over the rounded curve of his ass, and Richie’s got this quake of arousal seated low in his belly, just the sight of the blue against Seth’s skin, curving around his body, it’s got Richie shaking, his mouth agape to let in air he can’t pull in enough.

He makes a sound; his throat comes alive with sound bursting into his mouth, passed his lips, and it’s got Seth turning around, this interesting curve his body morphs to, and Richie’s mouth opens, needing something, anything, to fall off the tip of his tongue, needing to say words enough to break this silence.

“Richie,” is a mere soft whisper, calm laced in between the nervous spaces of his voice, and Richie gets it.

Seth needs it, he wants this, and Richie can give him everything.

“Hey, Seth,” and he tries to be soft, a mere low sound enough to help ease the tension that laces through the tissue of Seth’s muscles, locked and radiating with tension. It’s just like every other time, like every sight he’s let his eyes fall upon Seth in panties.

Richie comes closer; he’s trying to be as non-threatening, knows that in this state, Seth can be pushed easily, in a fragile state of mind because he’s this exposed, allowing Richie to see him like this, stripped to his barest skin without his defense mechanisms, and just the smallest hitch can set Seth off.

Richie breathes, the air in his throat comes out like a gratitude for whatever has allowed Seth to be in this type of mood, and he raises his hands, hesitates, fingers flexing and he waits. There’s a confirmation in a nod from Seth, and Richie’s hands rest upon Seth’s shoulders, skin void of clothing.

His thumbs rub in soothing circles, beginning a slow rub with his hands, starting out at a leisure pace, as though he’s trying to console a person to come down from hysteria, and he watches Seth’s face, the fluctuations in his expression, and the slide of his facial features into something content, relaxed.

Seth quirks his lips, almost self-conscious, not quite reaching the amount of self-assurance Seth normally has. He wants to put It back, make Seth crack that cocky grin, get that irritating attitude back that grates him in the wrong places, scratches against the patches that love the attention, and he’s never been so dense with need to take care of Seth.

Seth’s shifting, looking away, biting his lip, and Richie knows just how much it takes from Seth to do this, this vulnerability that he’s obviously not comfortable in, it soaks him through in shame that Richie has to take away, has to erase from his brother’s mind.

His hands travel down Seth’s arms, leans in to touch his forehead against Seth’s, a low, breathy, “you’re so—” and he’s unsure if he can finish this sentence, not if Seth will strike him for making him feel so… feminine, so revered in ways that make Seth bristle at them.

“I’m, ‘so,’ what?” and Seth’s words are inquiring, almost hesitant, but there’s a low trace of confidence in there. “Just say it, man, I look ridiculous, you don’t have to lie about it—”

“So fucking beautiful,” and that shuts Seth up, and really, Richie feels so fucking corny when saying that, like this unspoken thing between them to not call Seth these things. Endearments were rarely used, if ever, between them, and Seth shifts uncomfortably, this change in his body that gets Richie’s confidence up, and he’s moving forward, turning Seth around. “Such a pretty boy for me.”

There’s a mirror in front of them, the reflections of the two brother pasted to the surface, motel grit splayed on the surface, but it does nothing to deter the images they’re faced with.

“Really?” Seth comes out with after a pause, with this hesitance to believe his brother. With that press against his back, Richie’s presence covering him, it’s… almost enough to get reassurance, liquefying and spreading over his body in warmth and new-found confidence and everything that makes him feel better.

He’s not gonna admit his fucking thing for being assured, if wearing panties doesn’t make him a big enough freak, he thinks.

Yeah, just so,” and Richie’s face curves along Seth’s neck, hot breath spreading over Seth’s skin, and settles into his pores down through his skin to touch his veins, and Seth thinks about arching back, to cover his skin in his brother’s warmth and confidence and praise, just let it fill the holes gaping in him to reassure himself.

He hates being that weak, that much vulnerability.

Richie’s hands are pressed against his arms, gliding down his arms; a trial of goosebumps breaks out over his skin, a remnant of where Richie’s hands have been. Richie’s got himself pressed against Seth, and Seth can’t help but watch in the mirror.

Richie’s hands are a solid presence of heat along his skin, resting on his arms briefly before they slide back up to his shoulders, hands kneading at the expanse of flesh. Richie keeps nosing as the skin of Seth’s neck, keeps pushing into the curve there, brushing his lips over the skin, this soft gesture that keeps Seth focused on that touch, keeps him from thinking about how he’s standing almost naked, save for a pair of blue panties on him.

Seth makes a low sound, enough to stop Richie, his face lifting just enough to peer into the mirror, locking eyes with Seth. Richie clears his throat, a stronger sound than Seth’s own, “you really look good, Seth,” and his fingers slide down Seth’s shoulders, back to his arms, curving over his stomach, resting there as warm presence.

Seth breathes, heated and low, deep as he tries to get himself together, beyond the thickened tongue in his mouth, croaks out, “yeah, you’re just,” and his lips close among the skin on his brother’s neck, tongues at it slowly, pressing his face into Seth’s neck. Richie drags his teeth across the skin of Seth’s neck, and Seth trembles minutely, a deep surge of breath as Richie’s teeth move up his neck, to his earlobe.

Richie’s hair starts to shift forward, falling out of it’s combed-back style, and slowly does his hips churn in that barely restrained way that leisurely builds arousal in his stomach, thick and hot, filling his veins and lances through his blood. Richie’s pants are constricting, the material grates his skin, but Richie stops himself, keeps himself focused on feeling of Seth’s skin under his fingers, his lips, all this sensory input that has him needing more, wanting more that all the time before him.

“You just look so good, big brother,” and it’s the fucking big brother that melts over Seth’s skin, sinks deep into his bones and all the darkened feelings that fall wayside of positive, brotherly feelings makes it even more dark, sensuous with how wrong it all is.

Christ, he’s got a fucking incest kink.

“Just love how good you look,” and he’s got his teeth back over Richie’s neck, fingers trailing up to Seth’s nipples, pointer fingers lingering over them, pressing lightly, flickering back and forth. Seth’s got this choked-offed noise in his lungs, trying to unfurl from into his throat, and Richie wants it, he needs to hear Seth let it go, he wants Seth to let everything go into his hands as if it were an everyday thing Seth lets happen.

“Love how good you look,” a ghost of a breath, breathed so softly over the used skin of Seth’s neck, “for me,” and a harsh flick to Seth’s nipples, and Seth lets out a groan, arching back, and Richie smiles against the skin. “So fucking pretty,” is a husk of a sound that shoots down Seth’s spine.

Richie places his palms along Seth’s ribs, his thumbs finding his brother’s nipples—rubbing, pressing, flicking, all kinds of soft movements against them, feeling them harden, pressing back into the skin of his thumb. He’s moving his hips, and Richie thinks about it.

He thinks about how his brother would just let him, grab a handful of those panties and pull them to the side, just allow Richie to take his dick out, and slide against his ass, squeeze those cheeks to together and rut between them, catch the head of his dick on Seth’s hole every so often, just to hear Seth lose it, press back onto his dick and ask him, fucking _beg_ him to do it, just slide in, do anything—

He keeps flicking at Seth’s nipples until Seth is squirming now, visibly, his movements shaky, bordering on a desperate urge Seth tries to control, and it’s partially there to how he wants Seth.

Instead, he’s taking his hands to brush them down Seth’s stomach, resting on top of the panties, “you look so good, Seth, fuck,” and Seth’s arching into the touch, letting Richie words flow over his skin, like warm water washing over him, and Richie’s hands dip into the panties, brushing past coarse hair, the tips of his fingers resting on Seth’s groin.

Richie drags his tongue across the skin of Seth’s neck again, from shoulder to the lobe of Seth’s ear, and he needs to put his mouth on Seth’s mouth.

Gently, he pries his hands from under the panties, trailing his fingertips across Seth’s stomach, and Richie feels the small twitches under his fingertips, to gather on Seth’s shoulders again. He turns his older brother around, and his eyes find Seth’s, and he loves every second of dark arousal staining them, precious as stained glass that Richie wants to keep watching.

He keeps his eyes on Seth’s as he slowly steps up to Seth, pausing to see if Seth wants out, just enough of a hesitation to show Seth that he has the option of backing, to stop everything, and there’s a nod, just a small nod, and Richie advances.

There’s a sink behind them, which Seth’s hips there to have a foundation to rest upon, as Richie lowers his head to Seth’s mouth. A brief touch of lips, a permission request to go forward, giving Seth the power to still stop this all.

Seth permits it, opening under his brother’s mouth. Richie runs his tongue across Seth’s lips, licking inside, across Seth’s teeth, all the while Richie’s hands are back on Seth’s sides. His palms kneed the skin, over the older brother’s ribs—pressing, retreating, repeating, a kindling mixture of need in different shades of intensity.

Seth’s mouth is hot as it is wet, tongue coming to twine with Richie’s, slick with spit and everything is just how Richie wants it. Seth opens under him, breaks under the need his body is experiencing. Richie slides one of his hands down, nails digging slightly into the skin, creating brief white lines that turn red, and rests his hands on the bulge of Seth’s panties.

It’s fucking obscene, the material barely holds Seth’s dick in check, swelling under the material, a darkened wet spot forming and Richie’s fingers find that spot, dragging his palm up the bulge, allowing his fingers to play on that spot, repeating with dragging his palm back down Seth’s cock, and Richie alternates it enough to his liking.

Seth breaks away, “fuck, Richard,” whispered coarse and thick, head tilting back, gasps barreling up his throat, ripping from his mouth that provides the crescendo to their ever-growing need. Richie’s making marks upon his neck again, needing to fit his mouth over the skin, feeling the heat beneath it.

Collarbones are one of Richie’s favorite things on Seth’s body, the way his lips fit over the raised skin, the bone just barely under the skin, the way the skin reddens as Richie works his mouth over them. For a while, he breathes, open-mouthed, over the skin, letting his breath was over the skin, like he’s marking them with his scent.

He does want his mark on Seth, though.

His heel of Richie’s hand presses sharp, down on Seth’s covered cock, and a harsh, “shit, _fuck_ , Rich—” buckles from his throat, and he keeps going, keep pressing the heel of his hand down, rubbing over the raised material.

“Wanna watch you make a mess of these,” and he breathes it against Seth’s collarbones, tongues them lightly over, “watch you make a mess of these panties,” and his mouth draws down, his lips fitting over one of Seth’s nipples, but he doesn’t close his mouth around it, just continues lowly with, “wanna watch you come all over yourself while I fuck you in these panties,” and he licks, flat-tongues strokes, “wanna see you do it, Seth. Slide these panties out of the way; don’t even get them off you.”

Seth is panting openly now, small, bitten-off noises, and his names whispered in between those breaths and half-formed words, and Richie continues with, “just slide my dick in while you wear these panties, fuck you in them, make you take all of me in those pretty blue panties. You want, don’t you, Seth?”

Richie grins, “do you wanna watch my dick fuck your tight hole, huh, Seth? Watch as little brother fucks you, watch as my dick slides into you, out, and just watch you get messy for me? Want to watch me come inside you, and just fuck it all back into your hole?”

Holy fuck, Richie isn’t like this normally, he isn’t one to indulge in doing this, but it’s for Seth’s sake, it’s all for the pleasure of Seth.

“Bet you’d want it,” breaks off into a rough whisper, as he travels down Seth’s stomach. “Watch as I make you so fucking messy, just leaking out as I continue to fuck you, watch my cum spill all out your hole as I fuck it back into you.”

Shit, shit, _shit_ , he could come like this, with Richie talking about everything, and a full body tremor shakes him, rattles his core, and Seth can’t do anything but allow it to happen, letting the warm wash of Richie’s words settle over him. Sweat leaks from his hairline, curls over his nose, and drips down onto his chest which Richie sees it.

The younger brother moves his mouth in a hot line across his stomach, up his chest to swipe at the drop of sweat, and leaning in to catch Seth’s mouth, and continues to message over the bulge of Seth’s panties, eating the noises that Seth makes, drinks from it like it’s his only lifeline.

Richie removes his last hand from Seth’s ribs, slides down his sides, curving around along Seth’s thigh, and under his ass. His fingers catch the silk-like material and they press up, back and Seth is cursing, arching his back, a litany of, “fuck, yeah, Richie, come _on_ ,” because Richie’s fingers press against his hole, through the panties.

Richie strokes, fingers moving dexterously, continuously sliding passed Seth’s hole, just this dull pressure against Seth’s hole.

“I’m gonna get this all fucking wet, sloppy, just dripping and so messy,” and Seth’s really gonna come prematurely, before Richie even gets to the good stuff.

That’s when Richie starts, starts kissing down Seth’s chest, kisses at both nipples, gives them a brief lick before continuing down his brother’s chest. He stops in front of the bulge of Richie’s panties before he slides his mouth along the material.

“Fuck, look so good in these, Seth,” and he opens his mouth, letting his tongue flick out. The older man’s hips hitch forward, trying to get more of that fleeting friction, of the hot wetness just outside his hard cock. The thinness of the material doesn’t allow much resistance to Richie’s onslaughts. With hands on either side of Seth’s hips, Richie steadies his knees on the floor and goes back to mouthing at Seth’s dick through those blue panties.

He gathers spit on his tongue, shoves it against the material to get it wetter, and it gets easier, can feel the slide of the panties against Seth’s dick, knows Seth’s slowly dripping , that Seth is getting desperate with the need to come. He drags his tongue across Seth’s panty-covered dick, closing his mouth over where he guesses is the head of Seth’s dick.

He moves both hands and begins to kneed at Seth’s ass, then shoves his hands under Seth’s panties to grip at his ass, and Richie begins to dig his fingers into the meat of his older brother’s ass, pulling them apart to expose Seth’s hole temporarily, repeats this until Seth is practically begging.

There’s a hand in his hair, fingers flexing to grip the strands of his messy hair, but Richie pulls back, a low growl in his throat, “don’t touch,” and holy shot, Seth will give him so much shit for this later on, but he can’t help it, Richie just wants to indulge in this as long as he can.

“God, can’t wait to see how pretty you’d look making a mess in there,” and again, he’s dragging his mouth against Seth’s dick, “bet you’d look so goddamn pretty,” and really, he’d fucking hit Richie for even saying that to him, but he’s too caught up in that mouth on his dick, through his panties.

He can’t help it anymore, Richie moves one of his hands, gripping at the waistline of the panties, moving them down slowly, revealing every slow inch of Seth’s cock, watching it rise and halted by his stomach. Richie movies forward, using his free hand to grasp at Seth’s dick, lowering Seth’s hard cock to his face, fingers slightly flexing along the length of Seth’s dick.

He licks at the head, brief touches of his tongue that has Seth groaning in frustration, small hitch of his hips, and Richie runs his tongue down the slit, pressing the tip of his tongue to the indent, flicking his tongue briefly over the spot. He tongues at the slit again, twice, three times, stops before wrapping his lips around the top of the head of Seth’s dick, sucks lightly, lightly twisting his hand that’s wrapped around the length of Seth’s shaft.

Seth has to look, has to watch his brother slowly feed himself Seth’s dick, watching it disappear slowly behind Richie’s dick. Richie tilts his head somewhat as he sucks, he slides down at down at diagonal angles. There’s almost nothing better than watching his brother swallow down  his cock, feeling Richie’s cheeks close around him, hot, tight heat, such a good suction amount that Seth wants to let his head fall back, think back against the bathroom sink.

Seth is very interested in the way that more of his dick disappears behind Richie’s lips, how his lips stretch more around the length, the way Richie leaves spit trails on his dick, lips becoming shiny wet, the suction bringing blood to the surface of his lips, staining them with a prettier version of lip gloss.

That’s an image, Richie with lip gloss, or even lipstick, across his lips, smearing across his dick when Seth’s in the mood to choke him with his dick.

However, now is not the time, now it’s Richie’s time, and Seth is reminded of this when Richie moans, the vibrations travel from his dick to his spine, lancing through the spaces between his vertebrae, and it pushes him close, it makes him want to come now, but he won’t it’s not time, not the right time.

Richie is swallowing down his dick, his eyes falling shut sometimes, but he stop himself, looking up at Seth, and god, it’s a fucking perfect sight, Richie on his knees for him, sucking on his dick like it’s something he can’t get enough. There’s that feeling of fullness in his balls, and he can feel the need, the urgency behind needing it to be released.

There’s this press to his balls, and Seth had forgotten that Richie had two hands, and the other one not in his sight has reached around, traveling up the seam of his balls, under and to his hole. He’s not pressing in, just touching, dry, and it’s not enough, Seth fucking needs more.

Richie won’t finger him open on spit, and Seth’s not sure if Richie kept a lube packet with him, but he’s saved, as Richie pulls off him (disappointing), and it doesn’t stop his eyes from trailing Richie’s lips, all swollen, blood-filled and trails of spit disconnecting from his mouth and his dick, and right there, that’s when Richie will be producing the lube packet and fuck him.

Richie’s not doing that, knees shifting on the bathroom floor, maneuvering him to turn around, bending over the sink Richie’s hands sink further under the waist line of his panties, more muttering along the lines of, “so goddamn pretty, prettier than any girl,” and it shouldn’t be causing heat to sink into his veins.

Richie knocks at Seth’s legs, moves them wider before there’s breath on his lower back, and shit, Richie isn’t gonna, he isn’t—

Apparently, he is, because Richie’s hot breath ghost over his back, and hands on his ass spreads him wider, and there’s cool air on him, combined with Richie’s breath and he licks a flat strip up Seth’s hole. A moan is wrenched from his chest because of that tongue. Richie swirls his tongue, pressing it into the skin of Seth’s hole, flicking it back and forth repeatedly and quickly before pressing his tongue deep into Seth as far as he can go.

“Oh, god, Rich _ie_ —” and Richie’s tongue feels so good, sparks of pleasure racing up his spine, slamming into him in waves that keeps him gasping, keeps him from thinking about the urge to tapper down on these things.

Richie’s tongue is everything Seth’s universe is centered on, every flick of that tongue, every caress, movement, the hot, wet press of it inside Seth’s opening can just so good that Seth would be more than content to come like this. His dick is trying, though, and his balls are drawing up, tightening, and the pressure becoming a need that has to be taken care of.

“Yeah, c’mon, Richie,” and that’s definitely a moan breaking into the sentence, “make me come like this, just like this, little brother.”

Richie hums, tries to shove his tongue in deeper, all the while he’s unfastening his pants, slipping a hand inside his pants to pull his cock out, gripping before giving one long stroke, shifting his hips forward into his palm, running his hand to the bottom of the head of his cock, stopping to rub his thumb across it, all the while he retreats his hand again in favor of fucking his hand, stroking himself quick and fast.

He tries to tongue Seth fast, flickering it on the outside of Seth’s hole, and he buries his face into Seth’s ass, as much as he can possible, and Seth moans louder, he keeps breathing harder,  a telltale sign that he’s close.

“Come on, Richie, know you can make me come this way, fuck me with tongue, fucking _show me_ ,” growls from his throat, and he’s so close, and, “show me why I don’t have to touch my cock to come, know you can make—shit—me come from your tongue alone,” and yeah, there’s the push, that’s what he’s been looking for.

Seth’s reaching around with both hands, grips his ass and spreads himself wide, allowing for Richie to tongue fuck him better. There’s spit leaking down his crack, dripping onto he panties barely pulled down Seth’s thighs, and with a free hand, Richie’s swiping through the mess, pressing a finger in under his tongue, only pushing in farther when he feels as though he’s gotten enough spit to ease the way better.

He keeps it up, and Seth just moans, drops his head until he’s almost looking upside down from inside the sink. He’s close, so damn close, and Richie’s finger is good and all, but he needs more, he wants more, he’s so close to the finish line. In presses two fingers, slick with a lot of spit, messy and dripping, and pushing at the muscles inside, stroking, flexing, pleasure continuously shooting through his nervous system to crackle at the nerve endings.

Between the endless fingers and tongue, Seth can feel is pass through, his orgasm starts at the base of his stomach and suddenly ricochets outward, surging through every nerve ending, lights up his vision and he comes, being caught in the pleasure that lights up his body.

Seth tightens around his fingers, his tongue, and he’s fucking his fist with almost ruthless abandon, hips shifting and thrusting into his grip, and those guttural sounds from Seth, those, “fuck, god, yes,” and, “wish you were fucking me instead of your fingers,” it’s his breaking post, and a rush through his blood signals everything is over.

Those brief moments before he’s about to come, he stands up to his feet, continues to stroke himself quickly and comes, paints it all over Seth’s back and ass, grunting, gasping, white noise in Richie’s ears, his eyes, and he’s slumping forward, barely aware that his cock is smearing along Seth’s back.

Seth’s breathing is coming down, Richie’s still in this heightened state, and Richie tries to stand up, standing close enough where his dick brushes bare against Seth’s ass.

“Where’s,” and a deep pant before, “that guy who was gonna,” and gives way to another pant, ”make a mess of my panties?” and there’s that smart ass of his older brother back.

Richie rolls his eyes, too sated at the moment to really care. He runs his fingers up Seth’s back, playing with the cooling mess on his brother’s back, and smirks when Seth shudders.

“We can do that later.”

“Yeah, that’s it, go all fuckin’ alpha dog on me and then chicken out.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining about it, _pretty boy_.”

“I’ll fucking hit you over that later, legs too much like jelly to care.”


End file.
